


Canard

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [136]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 04:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>canard: noun: kəˈnär(d): unfounded rumour or story</p>
<p>mid 19th century: from French, literally ‘duck,’ also ‘hoax,’ from Old French caner ‘to quack.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since tomorrow is Valentine's Day, my gift to my lovely fellow logophiles is a two chapter fluffernutter of a fic. First part today, conclusion some time tomorrow :)

The blog served as advertisement, entertainment and one might think, 'authorized biography' as it came from the horse's mouth or at least the horse's flatmate's mouth. However. There were certain assumptions made about the 'sociopathic genius consulting detective' that John let simmer, including the tired canard that his flatmate was the least romantic person on the planet.

This was far from the truth, as one could see if you were a fly on the wall of their flat on Valentine's Day. Admittedly, Sherlock was hesitant at first, not quite sure of his footing as this 'Relationship Thing' was a new concept for him. He spent hours researching romance and what partners usually expected or desired, then throwing what he knew of John Watson into the equation blew all his theories and pre-conceived ideas out of the water. So, he went with his instincts, which was a bit like walking a tightrope while wearing a blindfold and and juggling apples, but he did try, he really did. Their first Valentine's Day was not exactly a disaster, but, of course there was the inevitable trip to the A & E, as they ended the night chasing a local peeping tom through the alleys and across rooftops, concluding(naturally) with an apologetic Sherlock carrying a well-doped up John Watson the seventeen steps to their flat, then into their bedroom.

John had a shift the morning of their second Valentine's Day, and after a cursory glance around the flat, kissed his still comatose lover before he went, hoping for a low-key evening when he returned.

The moment Sherlock knew John was safely out of earshot, he got dressed and ran out to the shops(yet another unfounded rumour was that Sherlock hated shopping, in fact, he loved shopping if it involved poisonous plants or gifts for John, as of this writing, he has not yet mixed up the two...mistletoe notwithstanding). Chocolates, candles, wine, (John was not a fan of champagne, he was more of a Syrah drinker, a fact that made Sherlock's heart race a bit faster) and he called Angelo to arrange a delivery of John's favourite dishes. John wasn't much of a flower guy, but to Sherlock's surprise held a fondness for balloons that carried over from childhood, so Sherlock had managed to locate 50 of the reddest, shiniest Mylar balloons from various florists, to be delivered in the middle of the afternoon. After he made sure all was arranged, he fell back into bed, completely knackered.

Romance was exhausting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part deux...

Around 8 oc'lock, John dragged himself up the seventeen steps to the flat, hoping for a beer and a bit of a snuggle. what he found as he opened the door was a flat full of glittering blood red Mylar balloons all gently dancing to music he couldn't hear, the amazing aroma of every favourite dish from Angelo's, and a decanted bottle (didn't even know we owned a decanter?) of a brilliant Syrah they had discovered while on a case.

"Sherlock?!"

He hung up his coat, observing the Belstaff and scarf in their normal places, and poured himself a glass (yes, an actual wine glass?) of wine and sat down on the couch. He intended just to sit and take a couple of sips, then get up and find his love and...in two minutes the glass was empty, and John was dead to the world.

An hour later, Sherlock shuffled into the kitchen, sighed and poured himself a glass of wine and breathed in its earthiness...mmmm.... Oh, John is home...oh, John. He knelt down next to his blogger and kissed that adorable nose.

"John?" He whispered.

"Mmmmm." John rubbed his nose and slowly opened his eyes. "Oh, hey, you." He sat up and took the glass out of Sherlock's hand, then ran his fingers along the buttons of the aubergine shirt. He always wondered how the poor buttons managed to do their job. 

"Sorry, I fell asleep waiting for you. I had forgotten how utterly exhausting it is..."

"What's exhausting?"

"Romance...just so far out of my normal...uhm...thought patterns...but I wanted to try to make up for last year."

"You amazing, brilliant, ridiculous man. God, I love you."

"I..uhm...yeah...hmmm...that."

"I know."

"Dinner?"

"Actually, as lovely as it smells, I'd rather have a bath with a certain dark haired beauty..."

Sherlock grinned, "give us a few minutes, yeah? Don't fall asleep on me, old man."

"Arse."

Sherlock ran the water, adding their bubble bath, the one that drove John slightly mad and lit the candles that surrounded the tub. He undressed and eased himself in to the water. "John....bring the wine."

"Yes, love."

John entered the room and handed a full glass to the bubble covered man in the tub. "Mmmm...."

Sherlock took a sip and sighed. "Care to join me?"

John answered by taking off his jumper and his socks.

"Slow down, I want to watch."

"Damn."

John sighed and teased Sherlock one button at a time...finally the shirt and vest were off, trousers and the red pants were tauntingly pushed down until he could hear Sherlock losing control of his breathing. 

"Johhhhhhhnnnn...pleeeeathhhe."

"Yes, love."

They took their time bathing each other, finding those places that made the other squirm and moan, and kissing each other through the bubbles until the water cooled.

"I have a surprise for you, too." 

"Tellmetellmetellmeohpleeeeeeattttthhhhe?

"Nope. I'll get our robes and we'll eat some of that fabulous dinner you ordered, then I'll tell you."

"Fine."

They dried each other off, not missing a chance to kiss the wine from their lover's lips. They threw their robes on, and Sherlock dished up heaping bowls of lasagne.

"Love, what are we going to do with all of these balloons?"

"No idea. I just like the visual and you love balloons...I figure we can take then to the children's wing at Bart's tomorrow?"

"Got plans for tomorrow."

"You do?"

"We do. You know how you've always wanted to break into the Crime Museum when you are bored?"

"Yeah...?"

"Tomorrow, Lestrade is giving us the whole day to play, not just the stuff civilians get to see...everything..."

"Oh, Johhhhhhn."

Sherlock deserted his lasagne and threw himself into John's lap. "You are...god. Iloveyou."

"What?"

"I. LOVE. YOU."

"I know. Go lie down and I'll put the food away, this should last us a week at least."

John washed up and realized how damned lucky he was; as wild and unpredictable his life could be at times, there was no place he'd rather be. And when he carried the glasses of wine into their room and discovered a very disrobed detective lying on red Egyptian cotton sheets, he almost passed out. "Damnnn, love, remember I'm an old man. God- you are..."

Sherlock blushed that soft pink that made John shiver. 

"Happy Valentine's Day, John."

"A very happy Valentine's day to you, my love."

John put the wine glasses on the side table, and retrieved the duvet from the linen closet. He slid into bed, curled around the most romantic man he knew and pulled the covers around them. They were asleep in two minutes flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure Lestrade had to pull a few strings...there is a Crime Museum:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Museum
> 
> and I'm sure Sherlock had a lovely day 'playing'...


End file.
